


Singed Cinnamon

by Tilltheendwilliwrite



Series: Christmas Drabble Day 2018 [6]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Morning, F/M, Light Dom/sub, Smexy, тэг заменён на Don't copy to another site
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-24 14:10:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17102072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tilltheendwilliwrite/pseuds/Tilltheendwilliwrite
Summary: pegasusdragontiger  asked:Okay Christmas prompt- Alpha Steve Rogers x Reader Christmas Breakfast that doesn't turn out quite right? With someone getting distracted all the time!





	Singed Cinnamon

**Author's Note:**

> This drabble follows the same world rules as what's outlined in the Introduction for my World Of Wings series. It does not take place in the same universe as A Painter's Embrace.

 

 

* * *

“Steve, stop it.”

“Don’t want to.” 

You rolled your eyes. It was six am Christmas morning, and you were busy baking. Every year since you’d been a little girl, your family had woken up early, opened their stockings, and sat down to a breakfast of fresh cinnamon buns, fruit, and cheese. Now that you were happily mated and married to your alpha, the one currently stroking the arch of your wing and looking at you with hot eyes, it had become your job to see breakfast was ready for your new family. 

The Avengers was a weyr unlike any other, but as one of the only omega in the group, your desire to mother everyone and be the homemaker of the group was very strong especially as you were mated to one of the three strongest alphas of the team. 

Bucky and Tony being the other two, but Steve, whose dark wings gleamed with shimmering gold, was the third. You’d wound up on the team because of your ability to scream like a Banshee - your now handle. You could shatter stone, bone, and even the sound barrier when you put your mind to it, but finding Steve, your alpha, that first day through the door had been the best day of your life. 

Now, though, he was being an absolute pain in your ass. 

You shot him a hard glare. “Steve, cut it out! You’re going to make me burn the cinnamon buns!”

“But it’s the last day of your heat, ‘mega,” he purred as he got closer, sneaking beneath the curve of your arched and outstretched wing, a warning to stay back he ignored. “I can still smell it on you. You should come back to bed.” 

His breath drifted across your cheek; then his lips pressed to your scent gland. A shudder rushed through you as every nerve lit up in response. “Steve… please. You promised. We knew it would be close.”

He growled and nipped teeth into your flesh. “But you smell  _ delicious _ . Don’t you want to come back to bed? Let me care for you? Help the ache that’s building right here?” He pressed his palm to the lower part of your abdomen and flexed his fingers while a large, dark wing slowly began to curl and contain your lighter grey ones. “Come back to bed.”

It was cruel how well he knew your body, the wave of heat rising from its low simmer to a boil with his words and actions. “Two… two minutes. I need two minutes to take the rolls out.”

He appeared to dislike the idea of waiting any longer than necessary to chase you back to your nest. “Leave them. Bucky will be up soon and can take them out.”

“It’s two minutes. I’m not ruining Christmas by burning breakfast.”

He spun you to face him and closed his teeth on his mark, his purr growing louder with every passing second until it was as if an avalanche of boulders were pouring through the room. The sound seemed linked directly to your womb as fresh heat filled your belly. He pressed you into the island,  trapping between its hard surface and his body.

“In two minutes I can have you stripped and bent over the bed.”

“You can do the same in four,” you whimpered as he licked wide stripes up your throat and rutted his hard shaft into your mound, sending whips of lightning through you. “Steve, please!”

“I like the sound of you pleading.” 

His teeth worried the cords in your throat sending sharp bolts of pleasure singing through your veins. “Alpha…”

“‘Mega.” Hot hands ran the length of your thighs before lifting you to perch on the edge of the counter. Your wings hung limp, unable to do anything but submit before the rising brush of  _ Will _ . He owned you, heart and soul, and knew just how to make you into putty with nothing but the brush of his fingers, or the weight of his heavy cock resting against the heat of your core. 

“Steve.” You gripped handfuls of his hair as you gave in, gave yourself over, and succumbed to the pleasure flooding your body. “Alpha.” 

The buzzing of the kitchen timer knocked you firmly out your lustful state, and you looked at him only to find red swiftly filling his eyes. A snarl curled up his lip as Steve dragged you from the counter. “Take them out; then you'd better get back in our bed.”

Meekly, you stepped around him, collected oven mitts, and took the buns from the oven. The pan landed on a cooling rack, and by the time you got the stove turned off, he was on you, pressed between your wings, arm wrapped around your waist with his free hand lightly stroking your throat. 

“Now, sweet, pretty, beautiful ‘mega mine. Get this ass back in bed, and I'll give you a Christmas present to remember.”

You giggled but didn't move. “Then you'll have to let go, alpha.”

He drew away so slowly; it was all enticing, sensual touching that left you breathless. 

“Run.”

You bolted, your alpha hot on your heels.

***

Bucky waited another ten seconds before walking into the kitchen and fanning his wings to disperse the built-up pheromones. “Damn. I knew he shouldn't have agreed to let her make breakfast.” 

Tony wandered through next. “He agreed to make her happy.”

“Punk nearly singed the cinnamon rolls,” Bucky grumbled.

-The End-

  
  



End file.
